


How to Sensibly Name Your Children

by DerAndere



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, They Have No Real Dialogue Though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22242784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerAndere/pseuds/DerAndere
Summary: How to Sensibly Name Your Children | "Moonbeam Dragonbreath!" | Teddy Lupin
Relationships: Teddy Lupin & Fred Weasley II, Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley, Victoire Weasley & Fred Weasley II
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	How to Sensibly Name Your Children

**Teddy Lupin: How to Sensibly Name Your Children (Or to Try, Anyway)**

As a man named after his father and grandfather, surrounded by people bearing names of others, he'd thought about what he'd do if he'd have children himself more than once. 

What names he'd give them. 

He knew Uncle Harry had always expected - at least a little, even if he'd never said anything - that he'd eventually name a son Remus. Maybe that was why he'd never decided to use that name for one of his own sons. 

Teddy, in any case, had always reckoned he'd do just that - it had seemed normal, it had seemed right to him, to honour the people he loved in that way -, until he, one lively evening at the Burrow, stumbled over an unhappy Freddie Weasley. 

Or, well - technically, Vic had stumbled over the boy and pulled him down with her when trying to grab his jumper, which had coaxed a small, unwilling laugh out of Freddie, before he rubbed his eyes and snuffled quietly. 

Vic looked him over as soon as she'd sat up again, and Teddy's eyes flickered over Freddie's sunken form, as well. 

His dark red locks were messier than ever and his cheeks shone wet in the dim light. 

"You alright?" 

"Hmmm ..." 

"Fred." 

He exhaled, snorting. 

"Dad's been drinking." 

"Mh, mine, too. How do you think I snuck Teddy up here?" 

"He only ever talks about Uncle Fred when he's drunk." 

Which, Teddy realized, was indeed true. 

Fred Weasley had never been a taboo topic - not for as long as he could think back, anyway -, but he always was brought up with a wistful little smile, and he'd seldomly heard George talk about his deceased twin; often times, the man excused himself when Fred came up, when one of the kids had questions, when somebody remembered pranks played a long time ago. 

"I'm not what he wanted." 

"Freddie-" 

"He wanted Fred, but I'm not Fred, am I? I'm not brave or funny or loud like him, and I don't play pranks, and I've never gotten a detention, and I'd much rather read than help out in the shop. Like I stole a shirt, and it's much too big for me ..." 

And Teddy Lupin didn't want to put anybody in too big shirts, even if his own fit, and so he decided to never name a son Remus, because Remus Lupin may not have been perfect, but he'd been the first werewolf to receive an Order of Merlin, he'd fought two wars, was one of the four people to ever successfully make a map of Hogwarts, and that sounded like a damn big shirt. 

He never wanted any child of his to feel insufficient. 

Nymphadora had been out as an option long before that, because he knew his mother had despised her name, though he'd have to admit that he kinda liked the sound of it after having heard it so often for all his life. 

(And he doubted that he could call a child "Tonks Lupin", even though his mum would have probably liked that.) 

He'd had a long talk about all of these things with his favourite professor when Neville had approached and carefully asked what he'd think if he'd call his second son - who'd been the unborn son still, at that point - Conrad Remus. 

He wouldn't do it if Teddy was against it, he'd promised, and then explained that Professor Lupin had been the first teacher to ever give him the impression that he actually believed in him - the first person, maybe. 

"And Conrad?", Taddy had asked. 

"Oh, it's just a name Hannah likes. Like Cyril, you know? I get the middle name, so long as she gets to choose the first one." 

"What's Cyril's middle name?" 

"Francis. After my dad." 

"... Why not just Frank and Remus?" 

And Neville had been quiet for a moment or two and furrowed his brow in thought, before slowly saying: "I tried to be my dad for years, and it didn't work, because ... there can only ever be one Frank Longbottom, so it just ... didn't feel right to call Cy that, you know?" 

"Hm-mh." 

And so, when Vic whispered to him, four years after that conversation, that she was pregnant - it had been his twenty third birthday and the words had been the most surprising gift he'd ever received -, he knew what he didn't want to call this baby. 

Vic did, too. 

("No tongue twisters." 

"Like ... Victoire?" 

She punched his shoulder. 

"And no play on words.")

Not that that did much for them, because that only crossed a handful of names from Teddy's list and made Vic reject basically anything coming from Albus and Scorpius. 

("Aragog Anglia!"

"After two legends of the Forbidden Forest!"

"The Boy Who Lives!" 

"After Mr Potter." 

"Another legend!" 

"Much more original than Harry." 

"Every second kid's called Harry." 

"Rosius Jyperion. 

"Semaj Subla." 

"Moonbeam Dragonbreath!")

And though George's offer - "A sack full of galleons if you call him 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes'!" "George ..." "The best publicity, Ronniekins!" - had sounded very tempting in Teddy's ears, a stop had been put to that particular idea when Molly had whacked her son over the had with a spatula, because no baby - and especially not her first great grandchild! - would ever bear a so ridiculous name. 

Teddy wasn't sure if George had entirely given up on the idea, though. 

The rest of the Wotters hadn't been any more helpful. 

Nor his grandparents. 

(He loved the two of them, but what had he expected from the people who'd named "Werewolf McWerewolf, Jr." and "I-hate-my-name Tonks"?) 

Names he liked didn't sound right to Vic and the other way around, and they didn't want to compromise on something as important as their son's name, and so her due date came closer and closer, day for day, week for week, without them any decisions, until Vic rested her head on his shoulder and sighed: "You sure you don't want to call him Remus?" 

"No", he said, brows drawing together. 

"Edward, Jr." 

"Nah." 

"You know", Hugo said, who sat by the fireplace with Lorcan and Lysander, reading to them from a Muggle storybook, "you can name a child in someone's honour without giving them the exact same name. Gramps' name was Hugh, so mine's Hugo. Call your kid ... Andrew. Could call him Drew. Willy. Rem-Rem-Rem-ing-ton? Remy, for short." 

"Stephen", Freddie contributed from where he was draped over the sofa back. 

"Stephen?" 

Teddy blinked over to him, confused. 

"We don't know anyone named Stephen, Fred." 

"But an Étienne, right? A certain favourite grandfather from somone behind me, maybe? Just the French version of Stephen." 

Not one of them questioned how he knew that, or even if it was true - it was weirdly normal for him to have the most random facts ready even if nobody asked, and it always had been. 

And so, with a handful of new names in their minds, just a few days later, a new Lupin and the first of a new (and presumably big) generation of Weasleys was born, quietly whimpering and with a head full of violet hair. 

Teddy's memory of the event was, if he was being honest with himself, foggy at best, he had been so anxious, everything had happened so incredibly fast and agonizingly slow. 

(He wasn't convinced he sported the same face, hair colour or even skin tone for more than two minutes at a time, which had probably been somewhat weird for Vic's healer and not the least bit reassuring for Vic.) 

What he did remember, though, was Vic's face when healer Macmillan put the baby on her chest, and for nothing in the world would he want to give up the memory of this moment, for even if she had cursed his name just minutes before, now she looked down on their son with incredible tenderness and awe and love. 

"He's beautiful", he whispered. "You're brilliant." 

"Never again", she mumbled back. 

(Six years later, a pair of twins followed him anyway, for whom names were chosen much easier, much sooner. No cousins needed.) 

They decided, finally, to call him Andrew Stephen, a nod to their grandparents, as suggested by Hugo and Freddie, of which the two of them would be proud for the rest of their lives. 

And Teddy sincerely hoped that little Andrew Lupin would forever feel enough, because he didn't think he'd ever say: "You're named for my grandmother." 

It wouldn't be necessary. 

Andrew would get to know Andromeda instead of listening to long, sad tales about her. 

(And be thankful they hadn't named him Perseus, as she'd suggessted.)


End file.
